


Fled

by curiouskitten (AllieO)



Series: Fled [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 23:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10559816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllieO/pseuds/curiouskitten
Summary: A young woman wishes to escape a bad situation with her partner; in doing so they uncover a deep conspiracy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I started when I was 14. It was just sitting around in my files, so I figured I'd share.

"Come away with me, Arine," he whispered, "and our lives will be happy." It didn't take me long to decide. Hander was my best friend, and my oldest friend. I smiled and took his hand. " I'll come," I said, looking into his green-blue eyes. "I trust you." He relaxed visibly.  
"That's a relief. I don't know what I'd do without you." Then tension thrummed through him again, " We can't be caught. If we are we'll never get this chance again. Could you meet me here at three tonight? Bring a horse, probably Stibah, fully tacked and saddled, with camping gear and provisions for a week." He laughed then. " It's likely overkill, but we don't want to starve if we run into difficulties. Also bring your bow, just in case, and any money you might have. We'll need every penny."  
"You can count on me. I'll be there." Releasing his hand, I turned and jogged the long dirt trail through the sunny evergreen forest back to Misery Farm, my home, stopping here and there to pick edible herbs, flowers, and mushrooms, the reason I had come to the forest.  
◈◉◊○◊◉◈  
Where have you been?" thundered my father, "You have been gone all day!" He glared at me, clutching his bottle of beer.  
I glanced under the large oak table. One, two, three, no, five empty brown glass bottles I counted. That meant that he was already on his sixth, and I would have to tread carefully or he would explode. Dropping into a deep curtsey, I bowed my head and held out my hand-woven reed basket. "I've been out picking herbs and mushrooms, Father, just like you asked," I answered in my most subservient tone.  
"Then what is this?" he countered, snatching an orange flower from my basket, "I think you've been out wool gathering and flower picking, like any lazy sixteen year old girl these days."  
"That is a nasturtium, Father, they are your favorite in salads."  
He peered more closely at it, then bit the entire head off the stem. Dropping the stem on the floor, he muttered, "guess you're right." Looking down into his bottle, he took a swig. lazily peering back up at me, he grunted, "What're you still here for? Go 'n rustle me up a hearty dinner with whatever’s in that there basket of yours." He peered down into his bottle once more, swirling it around. "And bring me another one of these beers while you’re at it. There's only a tiny wee bit of this one left." He let out a loud belch.  
I, of course, skedaddled into the cool pantry and fetched the beer quickly, dropping my basket in the kitchen on the way. Then I darted out the kitchen door to give our three black cows their evening milking.  
Four hours later, I had fed the thirty six hens, two pigs, six cats, three horses, the rooster, twelve grey sheep, four goats, the old brown llama and my father, not to mention myself, cleaned the entire house, hid the rest of his alcohol, and packed my things, all without Father even noticing, as he went to bed early with a “headache”. I also mucked out the stable and left a note for my father on the polished maple counter and meals for him for tomorrow in the icebox. I fell into an exhausted as soon as I hit the pillow, but not before I set my acorn shaped alarm.  
◈◉◊○◊◉◈  
I jerked upright, almost banging my head on the low ceiling as I groped for the alarm's off switch. Leaping out of bed, I pulled on my riding gown with hidden slits in the front and back of the skirt, and my soft leather riding boots. I tiptoed down the stairs, out the door and into the night. I raced to the barn, slowing to a walk once inside. Quickly I saddled Stibah and tied my saddlebags to her. Feeding her a small sugar cube I led her out the back door, into the pumpkin fields and our new future.  
Soon we arrived at the spring clearing, but I hung back in the shadows of the trees at the edge, my instincts telling me something was wrong. I swiftly pulled my yew bow out of the buckskin tube at my side and had it strung and an arrow notched before a person could say “stop that”. I nudged Stibah forward with a squeeze of my knees, signaling her to move silently as we worked our way around the clearing. I offered up a silent prayer of thanks that my riding gown, Stibah, and my hair were black, as I heard noise originating in the center of the clearing.  
" You sure they're coming?" grunted a slightly annoyed masculine voice. I recognized it as the town constable's.  
"Yep, they said so, clear as day, right over yonder." that was the whiney voice of Barrie, the town busybody. I should have known that he would have been spying.  
I now had the full moon ahead of me. I could see the silhouettes of the two men under the only tree in the clearing, a large silver maple. Glancing back over my shoulder, I smiled as I saw Hander approaching. Motioning for him to stay put, I trotted on Stibah over to him, returning my now unstrung bow to its tube as I went. Pointing back at the clearing, I whispered, "ambush" in his ear.  
In the moonlight I saw him grimace, then nod. He pointed off to the east, the main road, and our new future. Taking his hand, I squeezed it to let him know I understood.  
◈◉◊○◊◉◈  
We rode through the night at a brisk trot, knowing that we we couldn't afford to stop and rest. Finally we came to a halt at dawn in a small clearing close to the road, with fairies dancing all around. Quickly we set up our tents and picketed the horses. We had eaten as we rode, so we went to sleep immediately.  
I awoke to Hander shaking my shoulder, the sun high in the sky. "Arine, we need to leave now, sleepyhead. They will already have found that I'm not in the orphanage, and soon they are bound to notice you are gone too, if they haven't already. Please hurry."  
Leaping up, I yawned. "Lets go." I looked down at myself and realized I hadn't changed out of my riding dress. Oh well, saves time, I thought. Rolling my shoulders, I followed him out of my tent. He silently handed me a bowl of oatmeal and put out the fire. I bolted it down and scoured my bowl with leaves. Stowing it in a saddlebag, I walked over to Stibah and Lementi, Hander's stallion. With one swift movement, I swung Stibah's saddle up off the ground and onto her broad back. She nuzzled my shoulder as I took her bridle off the ground, and I stroked her as I slid the bit into her mouth.  
"There's a girl," I muttered. Then I called to Hander, "Are you ready?"  
"Yes," He replied, laughing. "but you're not!"  
I glanced around. To my embarrassed dismay, my tent was still as it had been when I had woken, with the addition of a few giggling green fairies sitting on top. Blushing, I handed Stibah's reins to Hander. Working quickly, I shooed the fairies away, collapsed the tent and stowed it and its contents away. Mounting Stibah, I took back the reins. Hander had started to fidget nervously. I urged Stibah into her ground covering trot, Hander and Lementi at our side.  
◈◉◊○◊◉◈  
By early evening, we had reached the outskirts of a small village. As we got closer in, we realized it was much larger than our little village of Onwat. After we passed the sprawling outskirts, the buildings were closer together, and nearly all had at least three stories. Calling to a passerby, Hander enquired politely after the name of the city, which is what we had quietly agreed it must be, as our horses’ hooves clopped loudly on the cobbled streets.   
“Meridna, of course. Can’t you read the blinkin’ signs?” a short, black bearded man snapped at him. He glared for a moment, then stomped off, grumbling loudly about ignorant country bumpkins. Behind where he had been was an older woman, her silvered hair tumbling down to her shoulders, her matronly turquoise dress covering her stout body, and a beaming smile covering her wrinkled face.   
She said, “Oh, dear, he was rude wasn’t he? Don’t worry, we are not all like that here. Are you two together?” We glanced at each other, stifling giggles, as she continued. “Oh, do tell me your names, dears. Then you must come to my house for tea. I simply love company, especially young folk like you, who are so well dressed and mannered. Sophisticated, that’s what you are,” she gushed.   
“ I am Hander Miller,” he addressed her, “ and this is my good friend and traveling companion, Arine Silversmith.” He bowed the best he could from Lementi, while I dismounted and dropped into a curtsey.   
“Would you like to ride on my horse on the way to your house, madam?” I offered, with a glance at Hander, who gave a barely perceptible nod. “Her name is Stibah, and she is really sweet. I can ride with Hander.”  
“No, thank you, dear heart. She’s a beauty, but I really must finish my walk. Doctor’s orders, you know. Not even sure I can sit a horse these days. Haven’t done it for over thirty years. Anyhow, there are only a few blocks from here to my house, and I must say, I would enjoy it if you would join me for a meal. There is a perfect place for your horses out behind, and I have some scones in the oven that should be done soon after we arrive.”   
“That sounds delightful,” I assured her. “We have covered quite a few miles these last couple of days, and some hot scones plus a little rest would be wonderful.”  
Hander dismounted also, and we followed the lady, who told us her name was “Maiye, Maiye Gelbert, dearlings,” and hummed softly as she led us down the street, back the way we had come, for two blocks, then took a right and plodded merrily along for another three blocks, until we came to a block that had houses with yards, instead of the tall buildings with only narrow alleyways between them. She came to a halt before the tall white gate of the third house on the row, a snug, green, two story cottage with several windows. Maiye unlocked it with a small, silver key from around her neck. “Here we are, lovelies!” she announced, opening the gate into a perfectly maintained primrose garden. “I always lock it when I go out, so people know I am not at home. I leave it open when I am here, for visitors who stop by.” She pointed to a side path that led around the side of the house. “If you take that, it will lead you around to the back, where there is grass galore for the horses, and a sturdy fence. Then you can come in the back door and eat with me. I’m afraid I must go check those scones, but I will see you in just a few minutes.” With that, she turned and hurried into the house.  
We followed her directions and were soon in a spacious backyard, lined with fruit trees and with a fairly large pond set in the corner. I saw something touch the surface from the underside of the pond as I shut the second gate behind me, and I went to investigate. There were some sort of orange and white fish in the pond, some only the size of my pinkie, and the largest were the size of Hander’s forearm.  
“What a stroke of good luck that we met Maiye,” I remarked to Hander, while I rubbed Stibah down.   
“Yes it is,” Hander agreed as he rubbed behind Lementi’s ears. “This is perfect.”  
◈◉◊○◊◉◈  
The scones were perfect too, it turns out. Blackberry-blueberry with decadent cream cheese frosting, they were served with raspberry tea. After the regular prayer to our patron goddess, Sesar, I added another. “Thank You for Your commandment to offer hospitality to travelers,” I offered, “and to those who fulfill that commandment so fully.”  
“Sesar,” we all said together, to signal the finish of the prayers. Then we dug in to the impressive spread that Maiye had set up, which continued with treacle tarts, hot chocolate with whipped cream and peppermint sauce. To round it out, Maiye provided sausages, cheese, apples, and eggs benedict with toast. Every time we finished the course Maiye set out, it seemed she brought out another. Two helpings of nearly everything and almost two hours later, Hander and I sat in floppy heaps in in our chairs.   
“You two will probably want naps after that tuck in,” Maiye chuckled as she cleared away the dishes from the mahogany table. “Thank you for letting me feed you youngsters up. I haven’t been able to cook like that since my boys were in their teens. It brings back good memories.”  
I sleepily beamed up at her and nodded. Glancing over to my left, I saw that Hander had already nodded off, his head leaning back onto the backrest of the chair that he was sitting in.   
“I’ll need your help carrying this lad,” Maiye continued, eyeing Hander’s six-foot frame. “The couch will have to do, the guest bedrooms are both upstairs, and my old bones would not make it up there with his weight.”  
I giggled softly. “He looks like a sack of barley, flopped there. I think I can carry him on my own, I’ve done it thousands of times with two hundred pound bags of grain, and he can’t be that much heavier. It’ll be easier than carrying a three hundred pound calf with a broken leg.”  
“Huh?” said Hander sleepily, lifting his head. “I’m not a broken calf.”  
“No, Hander,” I explained, laughing. “I was just saying that you’d be easier to carry than a broken-legged calf.”  
“Oh. I’m flattered. I think.” He grinned at me for a second, then rose to his feet. “I’m not sure where you were going to try to carry me, but if you don’t mind, I think I’ll just walk.”  
“What if I do mind?” I teased him.  
“Then I shall be reduced to suffering through your attempts to carry me, and if, in the end, you fail, I shall walk anyways.” he replied matter of factly. “Plus, it is likely that you will be injured in the attempt, and then I would be honor-bound to carry you.”  
“I suppose you can walk,” I sighed dramatically. “Where are we going, Maiye?”  
“Upstairs,” she answered patiently. “The blue room can be yours, Arine dear, and the green one is for you, Hander. Go get yourselves settled in. Shoo.”  
We obeyed her gentle order, thanking her profusely on our way.


	2. Chapter 2

I awoke to sunshine streaming in my east facing window, and to my utter confusion, the soft patter of rain. When I opened my eyes, I could see no rain out of the window from my position, so I rose and went out onto the small balcony. As I stood amongst the multicolored blooms of the potted plants, I looked out over the sky and saw that not only was there no rain, there were also no clouds. Below me, Stibah was sprawled out full-length in the grass, while Lementi rolled vigorously nearby, his dappled chestnut coat gleaming in the sun. I slipped back inside and pulled on one of the lighter gowns I’d brought with me, a green cotton sundress with short sleeves and leaves embroidered about the waist, as the day, though just begun, already promised heat.  
I walked quietly down the stairs, uncertain if both of the others had already risen. As I approached the kitchen, I realized the solution to my little mystery. The noise had grown louder as I padded on the thick emerald rug down the painting lined hall toward the kitchen, because it wasn’t rain, it was breakfast frying.  
“ G'morning, Maiye,” I greeted her as I entered the kitchen, and fought the sudden urge to yawn.  
“Good morning, dear,” she said after a quick turn. “Would you bring me the sage from the cutting board?” I quickly gathered the chopped sage from the worn surface of the bamboo cutting board into my cupped hand and brought it over . “Just drop it right in here,” she added, indicating the cast iron pan full of potatoes on the cast iron wood stove in front of her. “If you could hand me the pepper as well, that would be nice.”  
“Sure.”  
“Lovely. Your Hander is still abed, but he should arise shortly.” She deftly transferred the cooked potatoes to a large serving bowl, then cracked four eggs into a medium glass mixing bowl. In a way that seemed to somehow continue the movement, she swiftly cut a pat of butter and dropped it into the still hot frying pan. “Mustard, pepper, salt, splash of cream, touch of hot sauce...” she muttered to herself as she added them to the bowl with the eggs. “Whisk, whisk, where is that whisk? I could’ve sworn I just had it!” she frowned, then began shuffling through various drawers.  
Suddenly, I realized the significance of one of the familiar noises I’d been hearing in the background. I hadn’t thought about it because I was so used to hearing it in my own kitchen back home, but it was clearly the sound of a cat playing with something it shouldn’t. Quickly, I turned around, my eyes scanning the room for the naughty feline. There! I saw a twitching tip of a grey tail poking out from under the table by my feet. Swiftly, I bent over and hoisted the cat, separating it from its makeshift toy. It tried to cling to the floor, but it’s claws found no purchase on the smooth green tile.  
“Maiye,” I called softly, cuddling the cat to my breast and scratching behind its ears. To my surprise, most of the cat was yellow, not grey as I’d thought at first glance. Only the tip of its tail and its paws were grey. “I think I found the culprit responsible for the mystery of the missing whisk.  
She paused in her drawer searching and glanced back at me. “Turmeric! You again?” she exclaimed, seeming both amused and exasperated. She quickly retrieved the whisk and hurried to wash and use it before the butter burned. “I can’t count the times he’s done this! He loves to play with whisks, but I’m not sure why. Not too long ago, he even played with it so much he broke one of the wires and cut his mouth. That was one bloody, confusing mess.”  
“Ouch. Did you forget that incident already, you silly kitty?” I asked him, tapping him gently on the nose. He ignored it, looking somewhat smug. I rolled my eyes. There was no helping cats when they got an idea in their head.  
“Arine, Maiye, good morning! Do I smell eggs and potatoes?” An excited looking Hander entered the room behind me. I noticed he was fully dressed, and felt briefly guilty for still being in my pajamas and bathrobe before deciding it was unimportant. He saw the cat in my arms as I turned around, and his face brightened even further. “Who’s this cutie?” he asked as he began scratching the fat cat under the chin.  
“This mischievous ball of fluff is Turmeric,” I informed him. “He’s fond of trying to eat whisks.”  
“Is that so? He has a nice purr.” Hander observed. Between my attention and Hander’s, Turmeric had melted into a purring, limp puddle of cat in my arms.  
Maiye chuckled at the sight, then announced in a firm voice, “Put the cat down and go wash your hands, both of you. Breakfast is ready.” We grinned and complied.  
After we had cleaned up the breakfast mess, Hander and I went out to the backyard to feed the horses.  
“Stibah,” I called. She whickered then came and nuzzled me. “Time for breakfast, sweetie.” I set the pail of feed I’d been carrying on the ground. “There you go. Eat up.” Smiling, I strolled back inside, admiring the beautiful day.

◈◉◊○◊◉◈  
“Maiye,” I asked, “is there a way to get to the beach near by? I’d like to take Stibah for a ride.”  
“Yes, there is...” she trailed off, interrupted by the doorbell. “Would you get that?” She glanced at her lap, where Turmeric had taken up residence. On top of him was a pile of in progress crocheting.   
“Certainly.” I chuckled to myself as I crossed the living room to the door. “Good afternoon,” I addressed the visitor as I opened it.   
“Good afternoon, ma’am. Sorry to disturb, but have you seen either of these...” he asks, sounding bored, and stretches out a hand holding two sketches as he makes eye contact with me. He suddenly falls silent, then glances several times between his outstretched hand and my face. “Never mind.” He quickly reached out and grabbed my wrist as I stood there, confused. “You’re coming with me. Where’s the boy, Hander?”  
“What boy?” I bluffed. “Please let go, you’re hurting me!” That was the truth. He seemed to be intent on crushing my wrist in a vice grip.   
“What’s going on here?” Maiye demanded, stepping up behind me. “Unhand her, you blackguard!”  
He leered at me, smirked at her, then replied, his voice gaining volume and aggression with each phrase. “I am a police officer. You can’t tell me what to do. You’re just a mangy, highfalutin’, stupid old hag! Now, tell me where the boy is, or we’re going to have to do this the hard way!” He shoved his face forward until it was just inches from my own, and I caught a faceful of his stinking breath. I noticed it smelled strongly of alcohol, and I decided I’d had enough, police officer or not.  
“ I’m going to ask you only this once more to let go of me,” I warned, but he just scoffed and yanked on my wrist. I sighed, then reached out and bent back the pinkie of the hand that was holding me. He yelped, let go, and cradled his hand in the other, glaring at me reproachfully. “Maiye,” I said, not taking my eyes off of him. “Could you get in contact with this guy’s colleagues? He’s extremely drunk. I’ll keep an eye on him, and he should behave.” I sent him a glare of my own, subtly reaching towards his hand again, then continued, this time addressing him in an extremely calm voice. “You will, won’t you?” He nodded frantically, then staggered a bit. “Come sit on the grass out here,” I ordered him in a tone of voice I’d learned worked well with drunks back home.   
Maiye soon returned with several police officers in tow. After we explained the situation, they sent a pair of officers back to the station with the inebriated one. The rest decided to stay after Maiye offered them lunch. The constant topic of conversation amongst the several small groups of men and women scattered around the room was what to do with a drunken policeman. I laughed and rolled my eyes as I walked by one such group. Hander had joined them, and was suggesting bizarre ideas that seemed plausible at first.   
I continued on to the kitchen, but paused outside the half open door when the conversation going on inside caught my attention. Quickly, I ascertained that the conversation was between Maiye and one of the higher ranking officers. It was clear that the fact that we were runaways had not been forgotten in the commotion. The officer had been filling Maiye in on the situation up until now, and then he continued.   
“I am sorry that I have inform you that although Arine’s father said she could stay, Hander must return to the orphanage.”   
“Well, then I’ll just adopt him. That would solve the problem nicely, would it not?” Maiye inquired.   
The officer hesitated, then grimaced. “In theory it would, and I am sure that the thought would be appreciated, but there are certain... complications involved. I can not confirm any of them as fact, but there are a few rumors that bother me involving that boy’s orphanage, its headmistress, and the boy himself.” Seeing the look on Maiye’s face, he hurried to continue. “It’s not that he’s done anything wrong, or anything like that. It seems to me that the headmistress is going to refuse to let go of him.”.  
“Why?”  
“Well, from what I’ve heard, she holds a fascination for the lad. He was the only child at the orphanage that repeatedly dared defy her openly. It is said she won’t let him go until she’s wrung every bit of work from him she can, and has obtained his submission and obedience. There are faint whispers that she...” He sounds pained, and pauses for a moment. “That she wants to force him into wedlock to bind him to her control even after he comes of age.” He takes a deep breath. “For his sake, I hope the rumors are just that. If I were him, and had heard those rumors, I would have fled, too. I hope nothing indecent has happened between him and the girl, Arine. He needs the permission of the head mistress to marry, and it sounds like that wouldn’t happen.”  
I begin to back away quietly, feeling awkward. As I retreat, I bump into a familiar body. “Shh,” he whispers, putting his hand on my shoulder comfortingly. “I heard everything, too.” Then, he raises his voice to speak to the two in the kitchen. “You can rest assured nothing has happened yet, though I do plan on asking her to marry me at some point. I’ll be of legal age the day after tomorrow, and after that, the orphanage and its headmistress lose all control over me. That’s why I left. On my birthday is when Miss Lealera would try to force a marriage, though the logistics of it are unknown to me. She said in a diary that I found by accident that she does want to use marriage as a means to control me, since I am a ‘cocky, rebellious little brat’, as she puts it.   
“According to the diary, she’s wanted control over me since the first day I was brought to the orphanage, when I bit her in defiance. All the other children were basically angels in comparison, so she seems to have decided I’m her challenge, and that she would conquer me.” He laughed bitterly. “I suppose all of my efforts to escape were in vain, though, since I’ll be back before my birthday.

**Author's Note:**

> I have more of this story written out in pencil somewhere....


End file.
